


A Scandal in Pips

by Mafief



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 00:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14557380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mafief/pseuds/Mafief
Summary: Holmes distracts Watson by telling him about the case involving seedless oranges that arrived at 221B Baker Street.





	A Scandal in Pips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [okapi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/gifts).



> Happy birthday okapi! :)
> 
> Original prompt from okapi: [ A Scandal in Pips ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644895/chapters/32067951)\- Holmes & Watson solve the murder of the person who invented seedless oranges.
> 
> I modified the prompt a little bit, but it still includes a case and seedless oranges.

Holmes blew out a puff of smoke which rose and merged with the thick miasma of the room. He had been thinking, and spent most of the evening curled up in his chair and smoking. He heard the opening of the front door and familiar footsteps tread slowly up the seventeen steps. Outside the door, the tired footsteps stopped and the sounds of clothing ruffling quietly.

At the sound of the door opening, Holmes quickly closed his eyes and tried to look even more introspective. 

“Evening Holmes,” came Watson’s weary voice. 

“Come sit, dear Watson.” 

Watson sat with a sigh as he melted into his typical chair. His travels through the winter streets of London leaving their tell-tale marks on his rosy cheeks and spots on his trousers. 

It took no great deductive skill to see that the doctor’s visits were numerous and not all contained good news. Holmes unfolded himself from his chair and poured Watson a drink which he accepted with a small smile. He returned to his chair and watched Watson leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Holmes saw the tension slowly melt off his friend and began thinking how else he could remove the rest of it. 

The fire crackled happily and Holmes was glad that he did not lose himself completely in thought and let it die down. As Watson warmed up, he opened his eyes and started bringing his drink to his lips before he stopped. “Holmes, what is in that?”

This would certainly cheer Watson up, thought Holmes. “It arrived when you were out. You may look if you’d like.”

After contemplating for a bit, Watson slowly moved to stand. Holmes regretted having his friend move, but thought it would only aid in the effect he was hoping for. 

Sitting his drink on the table, Watson opened the crate and his gaze fell on oranges that were perfect copies of each other. He tentatively picked up one, his sensitive doctor fingers touching the surface making note of the slightly indented naval. 

“Please help yourself, Watson. They arrived this morning.”

Watson picked up another one and gave one to Holmes before he sat down. The smell of orange immediately filled the room and Watson tossed the rind into the fire where it hissed and crackled. Holmes sat with his fruit untouched and watched Watson.

Clingy membrane cleared away, Watson bit into a plump slice. “Holmes, I have not tasted it’s equal in all my travels.” 

He took another bite and paused. “How is this possible?” Watson said to the fruit. 

He devoured a slice followed quickly by another. Holmes immediately saw juice escape Watson’s mouth and needed to quickly look away. 

Watson paused mid chew and said, “There are no seeds?”

“Excellent observation, my dear Watson. They are in fact lacking seeds. They came from America, specifically, from a former client in California.”

Just as Holmes predicted, Watson’s whole body perked up with interest, further driving away the weariness he saw earlier. He knew that Watson was eagerly hoping Holmes would continue with his tale and he was willing to oblige. 

“The grower's mother tree was being threatened.” Holmes noticed Watson try and not quite succeed at suppressing his relief and immense curiosity. “You see that the growers only method to increase this particular orange’s number is to make cutting. This grower was entrusted with two of the cuttings from Brazil that were given to the agricultural branch of the American government.”

“Brazil?”

“Yes, they originated sometime in the early part of this century and the exact history has been lost. But, back to the client. She has successfully introduced the plant to the region and other growers are eagerly wanting cuttings of their own. She is able to sell each cutting for five American dollars and thus creating a comfortable lifestyle for herself.”

Watson slowly swallowed another piece of orange. “That seems rather expensive for a tree.”

“It is, but these trees are in high demand because of the flavour of the fruit and that they produce mostly similar fruits. It is much harder to replicate that reproducibility in the other fruits.

“She started receiving threats against her life and slandering her position as a suffragist. She woke one night to a fire ablaze by her trees. She wrote to me asking for help having heard about me through your stories.”

Watson’s face brightened at the mention of his writing.

“The case itself was not difficult, and not worthy of your efforts to recording it. I was able to solve it after exchanging a few more letters. It was another orange grower who specialized in seeded oranges and felt that these seed-less varieties were a threat the very laws of nature and his business. He had meant to scare her and stop her from selling her unnatural variety, as he described them.”

“And she sent you the fruit as a thank you,” said Watson finishing of the last of his orange. “The tale could be improved upon. There could be a romantic interest, or a crime of passion, or a secret society, or something to that effect. 

“Forever the romantic.” Holmes gave a mock disapproving glare and Watson chuckled in response. His chuckle turned into a yawn and he excused himself for the night. 

Holmes watched Watson retreat and saw none of the tension in Watson’s body that he had when he came home.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m referring to Eliza Tibbets and her contribution to citrus agriculture in California as well as the origins of Naval (Washington) oranges. The part that isn’t historical was the threatening notes and fire.


End file.
